


The Stages of Grief as shown by the Dream SMP

by Anonymous



Series: MCYT/Tommyinnit Anon Stories [9]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I hate is DSMP character so baddddd, Mild Gore, My fucking mum had to comfort me, Ranboo and Mr Manifold have one line each, So did anyone else cry?, There's more tags but I legit can't think of them?, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), he's a murderer, sobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Following the Kubler-Ross model of grief, there are five stages, Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and acceptance. The SMP experiences them all in the passing of Tommy.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: MCYT/Tommyinnit Anon Stories [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047313
Comments: 1
Kudos: 88
Collections: Anonymous





	The Stages of Grief as shown by the Dream SMP

**Author's Note:**

> T//W - Death and slight gore - Dream beats Tommy to death.

Dream realises he's fucked his plan up the moment the light leaves Tommy's eyes. They go grey, losing their sky blue and turning into an empty film reel, Tommy's story coming to an abrupt close. The boy's arms go limp at his sides, and as he releases the pressure on Tommy's neck, his head falls to the side, he looks like he's sleeping, and Dream rubs a quick hand through blonde hair. His head filled with static noise, he wonders if he's ever made his family proud. His carefully laid plans, ruined, but there's a way for the story to continue. He drives his fist through Tommy's skull. Blood splattered across the ground behind him and up onto his mask.

Tommy's head is fractured, and he can see the exposed brain and shattered bones. He breathes deeply and calls out absently for Sam. Someone has to clean the blood off the weeping floors. The cell is crying, and so is he. The one person on the server who was indisposable was gone. Dream could bring the boy back, but there was a catch to that book, one he didn't like. The soul had to want to live again. Tommy certainly didn't seem to. 

He can hear the pistons behind him, and he wonders if he's skipped the stages of grief, skipped and laughed his way to acceptance. Tommy is dead, and Dream's pretty sure he won't be able to bring him back, but the stage set for the new player, and Dream is prepared to play the villain again. 

* * *

Tommy's last words to Sam had been shaded in desperation, a plea to someone Tommy loved to save him. Sam had misjudged both Dream and Tommy. The results of his failure stared at him in the shattered, broken body of his almost son. The papers would remain in his chests forever unsigned, left to gather dust and grime, for him to weep over. He can't card his fingers through Tommy's hair. There's little left of his boy that isn't blood or gore. He pulls Tommy close, pulls the limp limbs onto his lap, and buries his face into Tommy's bruised stomach, and wills for it to move. But he's well aware it won't. 

His mind spirals, and he begins to speak, "Hey Tommy," he whispers into the cold space, "My friend, you can't leave me. Who's going to look after Sam Nook without you here." 

He gets no response. 

For weeks after Tommy's funeral, he can't leave his home. He buries his face into Frans snow-white coat and sobs, refusing to move from her safe, warm body. Vines cover the hotel, and he couldn't care less. He wonders why he isn't dead and why the world keeps turning without its son.

* * *

"It's Tommy; he's not dead!" Tubbo and Ranboo laugh, skipping their way to the Bee N Boo hotel. "That was a horrible prank from Sam," they laugh, ring sparkling on their fingers. 

"You're both taking the news rather well?" Jack Manifold asks. He's gone from pure elation into this odd sort of sadness, dragging his feet along the prime path. He sounds unsure like he thought Tubbo would be sad, and in a way, he is. Sam's prank isn't funny. 

"What do I have to be sad about Tommy's going to be, fine! It'll be a few weeks, and he'll pop out the woodwork, and he'll come home, and we'll laugh together and move on." Dream still stuck away from them behind bars. "Come on, Jack! Do you think Tommy would let Dream take him out like that?" Tubbo laughs, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "You'll see! Right, I'm tired. Ranboo, it's bedtime." He sings, and they walk back towards the cold of there home.

* * *

Techno doesn't hear the news until after the funeral. Until after the last time, he can see the face of his racoon friend. When it's too late to press a Totem into his fragile hands and watch the light re-enter his bright blue eyes. He spends hundreds of days staring into old tomes and dead languages, trying to find resurrection and a saviour for the child's life. 

Techno has never prayed, never needed gifts from the gods. But now? He sits at the foot of his bed like a young child. Hoping that a god is out there listening and willing to help. He gets no response, and he does not stop looking the Stronghold's careful library plundered for any scrap of information on how to bring back the dead. 

There's nothing, no hints, no possibilities, just the thought that dying is inevitable. Techno cannot let that lie; he has thwarted Death's hold on him a thousand times, surely he can give up one of his chances to save someone just like him. Tommy deserves to live, and Techno will willingly trade one of his lives to bring him back.

* * *

Puffy, as a rule, doesn't swear. She has nothing against people who do. But she doesn't like to swear, not with so many children around, some that are her's and some that are others. But she has already failed one child tonight; how about a couple more? She screams until her throat is raw at anyone who will listen, at the walls of Tommy's hut at Bad and his fucking party about the Death of a child who deserved more love than any adult had ever given him. She passes Sam Nook and cannot bear to look at the robot; she fears in the dark parts of her soul that she will tear that robot to shreds if it mentions Tommy. 

She destroys the Eggpire building, ranting and raving. If anyone heard her, they would think she had finally gone mad. She wishes they would, then perhaps the fire raging in the deep parts of her soul would be quenched when she beat them in a fight. She promises herself revenge tomorrow when sleep has calmed her battle wounds. Her head is no longer full of cotton wool. Tonight, however, she lets the monsters of her soul dance, she slaughters livestock and creatures, sets forests ablaze and screeches her anger into the night. 

Puffy is going to kill her duckling. She resigns herself to the fact. Another can deal the final blow, but it doesn't matter. She will be involved, and she shall watch him fall. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am sad, but I think watching how other people acted there reactions to Tommy's death did fill many of the stages of Greif. The death itself wasn't sad but then so many artists made it so fucking angsty I was so distraught when I opened Insta and saw a really beautifully drawn image of Tommy beaten to death. 
> 
> I have been re-writing my Poppy Fields story but it's now relevant which is something I was trying to avoid, so I'm not sure when I'm going to post it but I am going to after the 'Theseus story'. Anyway, in good news, my Mum said she'd by me Phil merch for my birthday so maybe soon I can have Minecraft Youtube merch and truly become a nerd.


End file.
